


Sounding

by occasional_boy_reporter



Series: Kinktober 2018 [23]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alien Biology, Asexual Reproduction Prompted By Outside Desire, Is A Tag No one will Ever Use, Orgy, Other, Pychic Projecting, Pyschic Sex, Sounding, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 11:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter
Summary: I'm prepared for dumbfounded confusion and lots of questions. I don't think Calus or Psions have much of a sexual precedent and...this is my weird take.





	Sounding

**Author's Note:**

> I'm prepared for dumbfounded confusion and lots of questions. I don't think Calus or Psions have much of a sexual precedent and...this is my weird take.

 

   The oil in the royal bath is heated to perfection. Divine warmth laps at Emperor Calus’ thighs like a female snuggled up to his fertile body after having won the honor of mating him. Or like the press of another male, their members sliding together with no chance of reproduction in the ultimate act of decadence. He could have any one of his Loyalist Cabal with a crook of his finger but his desires are more specific today.

  Maybe it's the thought of pleasure solely for pleasure's sake that makes him think of the Guardian. Or maybe it's the Psions with their numbers equal to that of the Guardian team that recently boarded the Leviathan. Six Psions, with their size not dissimilar to the smallest of Guardians, scrubbing him, massaging him, adoring him within the steamed air and heated oil.

  Calus extends his blunt penis, bone propelling eager flesh, flesh parting shallow pool. One of the Psions leaves it's station scrubbing beneath Calus’ knee, no doubt psychically sensing the Emperor's desire before ripples have even washed over the Psion's thighs. Calus hums and melts as the Psion goes to work pouring hot oil over newly revealed flesh with a special golden scoop that all bathing attendants wear along their backs.

  A tiny hand rubs after the cascading oil and Calus thinks of the soft-palmed gloves he last bestowed upon his favorite Guardian. He thinks of their fire and their ferocity even as fingers skirt the tip of his blooming cock and prod at the opening there. Oil spreads over the tip, just light enough to tickle, then fingers are dipping inside. First one hand and then another spread the slit of his shaft. Calus hums again and nods for his attendant to continue.

  Two hands spread the soft channel wide and dip his mighty cock to collect more oil that slicks the way of the slim-fingered span that eases deep inside. The Psion sinks up to its elbow, palpating the channel, massaging from the inside. Calus’ savors every twist and stroke of a devout Loyalist sounding his thick length.

   Exile, as it sometimes does, proves not to be completely unbearable.

   It is only when the arm inside his dick begins to vibrate that Calus cracks an eye. The Psion between his legs has become jittery, its narrow shoulders shaking as it garbles something unintelligible. The other five attendants have stopped as well, fingers no long scrubbing, and Calus is amused to see that they jitter too. 

  The Psions gather closer, drifting between their Emporer's legs in a daze, so susceptible to his lust that they forget they don't know the sensation themselves. Not for the first time, Calus' ponders if his own sexual voracity could affect them so without the additional pychic enhancement of his royal wine. He reaches for his cup regardless.

  Six eager beings. One with two arms now stretching the channel of his dick as if it were ready to receive an egg. When he closes his eyes, six eager Guardians chitter away and murmur his praises.

  Royal gel pulses from his cock. Lubricant and nutrients as rich and dark as the oil around them jet past two arms and coat the figure stretching him with glistening ropes. Calus replaces the Psion once again with a vision of white and purple and gold from his own forges and a glossy, blank helmet instead of a wide, yellow eye. Another glob of magnificent blessing splashes against the Guardian's helmet.

   "Delightful," he rumbles.

  When the fantasy has run its course, Calus shakes the illusion from his head. It is a fight against the six gifted minds trying to give him the vision manifested by his desire. But he can fantasize about rambunctious Light beings whenever he please. Now he wants to see his attendants caught in the throes of his passion. 

  The five have gathered around the one who trembles as royal gel drips from him. All six buzz in atunement and the air around them shimmers as they reach and smear Calus’ gift between them in a slow dance of limbs. Clever little things, Psions. Even though they will never know the joys of a sexual reproduction first hand, these six will now assimilate trace genetics from Calus to each asexually further their species. 

  It's true Emporer Calus will have to find new bathing attendants shortly, but he will also have twice as many clever creatures to choose from.


End file.
